The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 18

ALEX WAITED IN the dark. Her arms ached from holding the ropes around her wrists so they stayed looking tight, but she didn't dare relax in case someone was watching. The gag was soggy and uncomfortable. Thankfully the cloak she'd been wrapped in was heavy fur, so she wasn't as cold as she might have been wearing only the under-tunic she'd outright stolen from Verus to sleep in.

        She ticked through the events of the past four days and kept coming up with the logical conclusion that she was on her own, and the horrible nagging thought that the small group of men who cared about her were going to do something extremely stupid because she was alone. She really, really hoped Verus would be a voice of reason – or a blunt force trauma if that was needed – to keep Ixillius away. He was her one protection in this time, and if her one escape was to leave this time, she didn't want him trapped and dead when she returned. The thought to leave this time and stay gone crossed her mind, and made her scoff out a laugh.

        Hludwolf had taken a lot of extra precautions in dealing with her, so Alex assumed he'd grabbed a small education from the lessons she'd provided at their last meeting. Not enough learning to stay clear of her, or to check that what he'd done would actually work, but enough to attempt to be cautious. She would have grinned if the gag wasn't there; the fool should really talk to his wife, and listen when she answered him. There had definitely been two groups outside the hut when he and his men had brought her here – those that were boasting about stealing the Eagle and capturing her and Max, and those that were angry about it. She didn't get a chance to make many eye contacts while she was dragged into the village, though, and only Hludwolf's supporters had been delivering her daily meal, so she only knew the aggressors were a smaller group. How much smaller was yet to be determined.

        She could still hear Max and what was probably the mare randomly kicking at their own small huts, every now and then the sounds would be muted and followed by a scream or two as cocky fools tried to test their luck against the brute or the mare. When the horses quieted again, Alex hummed a chorus from some song on the radio that got stuck in her head when she and Max were working. She didn't know the words, but she'd often hummed it while they were hiking so she hoped he would hear it and at least know she was there. Hades had followed her right up into the village and she could hear him chasing bugs on the roof of the hut even after numerous people had tried to shoo him away, so he knew exactly where she was. Hades warbled his weird little caw when she stopped humming, then a flurry of stomps, muted kicks and screams erupted from where the horses were.

        When the door opened this time, there was only torchlight behind Hludwolf. He didn't bother posing for once and was trying hard to walk straight around a bad limp. Alex wondered which scream had been his this afternoon, which horse he'd been dumb enough to try and approach, and how purple the bruise was on the leg he was favoring. He limped to the center of the hut to where she was tied to the roof's support pole, the smell of drunken sweat forming a stench bubble around him. He awkwardly made to wrap his arms around her. She turned her face away, disgusted, and drove a knee into his obviously sore leg. She didn't get the sore spot, but hit close enough that he quickly retreated.

        He was totally confounded by her, she could tell. He had the same look on his face as every guy that had tried to pick her up the times Mikayla, the receptionist, scheduler and rescue / medic helicopter pilot for her work, had convinced her to go to the discotheque to go dancing. As with those guys, Alex watched Hludwolf silently and waited to see if he was going to get violent or not. She didn't know how many men he had outside, so she didn't want to prove right now that she could get loose at any time, so she just kept staring at him.

        "I am a king!" he finally exclaimed, as if that proclamation should be enough to get her to fall at his feet. She continued to eye him levelly, processing his words: a king, not the king. There was a difference, although he didn't seem to realize it. Lectures from her history classes flicked through her mind... kings in the Germanias were common, and men only maintained the title if they were good at ensuring their tribe was profitable. He lurched forward again, and she let him get close.